The humble Farmer’s Feb. 13 column filled me with glee. We so seldom hear a true Maine accent these days and I miss it. I grew up in Portland, the big city, but when I left in 1959 and went south to Boston instead of “nauth” to college in Orono, my accent matched any to be heard up in The County or way Down East. Of course, living in Boston didn’t help the way I talked any.

Meeting New “Yawkahs” and other foreigners in Massachusetts was an education in itself, and as luck would have it, I married one who had grown up in the wilds of Brooklyn. When I met his family, I thought that they were all “hahd” of hearing because they kept turning to “ahsk” him, “What did she say?”

Of course, living in many locations and for years in Connecticut has evened out my accent, but when I am overtired or have had a little too much wine, I begin dropping R’s and adding H’s and the cadence of my speech changes. Now that I am finally living home again in Maine I keep my ear tuned to catch someone who will understand what I mean if I call something “cunnin’ ” or some little one “punkin.’ ”

Down south we had a friend who used to lean over and whisper in my ear: “Talk Maine for me.” Just now while I am writing this and 30 years later I thought of the right answer: “Only if you pay me.”

Keep on writing the down home stuff, Robert Skoglund. We love it!

Elaine Kahaner
Cape Elizabeth